When Your Heart Breaks
by quinnovative
Summary: A series of one shots in which Kate's having a bad day and Rick tries to make things better.
1. Chapter 1

The moon glimmers over the skyline as darkness blankets New York in a dark azure glow. The fabric of the city, woven together by individual lives, bustles on. Lights inside buildings flicker on, filling the night with manmade stars of a sort. The world spins on and time keeps moving, relentless, incessant as people carry on, proceeding through the motions of life. It's difficult to imagine that as your world is breaking, everyone else's continues spinning, but that's how it happens. That's how it always has.

It's Rick's third night back after his disappearance. He's standing outside their bedroom. His feet shuffle nervously, he reaches for the handle and hovers for a second before dropping it with a sigh. It's peculiar how everything is faintly alien, he feels foreign. He runs his fingers through his hair when he hears a muffled sob. It creeps through the crack beneath the door and reaches his ears, penetrating the illusion that things could go back to normal. He's so worried about her, it makes his heart hammer in his chest.

Normally, he would rush in and do his best to comfort Kate but ever since he returned, everything has been fragile between them. They're teetering on edge, tiptoeing, each step is careful and hesitant. He doesn't know what to do and it makes him feel so helpless.

Only two hours ago they were in the kitchen, eating a dinner that was just close enough to ordinary that it made his heart ache with longing. They were both abiding by unspoken rules, each living in their own separate glass box, pretending that everything was okay. Their conversation was pedestrian, avoiding painful subjects and anything that might stir up memories of the past few months. Apparently Rick hadn't done well because after a few minutes of pushing food around her plate, Kate nudged it away and announced that she was tired. She'd put her plate in the dishwasher and retreated to their bedroom, muttering a goodnight on her way there.

Rick has been waiting on the other side of the door ever since.

It's the next sob that urges him to enter, it's strangled and desperate. The sound startles him, he's never heard something so gut wrenching. It sends his fingers scrambling for the door knob, frantic and fumbling. He cracks the door just enough to slip inside, and shuts it softly behind him. He cautiously moves toward her crumbled form. From his view, she's a mass of sheets, a small bump on the mattress. The only thing that peeks out is the top of her head, chestnut waves spread atop the pillow. Rick's eyes search her posture for any clues that might tell him how to react, but nothing comes to mind, nothing has prepared him to comfort her when she's this distraught, this wounded.

Kate's legs are curled against her chest which quivers with each breath she takes. The inhales and exhales become more urgent, more rapid with each passing moment. It doesn't take long for Kate to work herself into violent shudders as she gasps for air between sobs. The hellish hurricane in her head only makes things worse, memories and nightmares interlace and reel through her mind. Her hand is pressed against her mouth in an attempt to muffle her tears, but they keep spilling over and tumbling down her cheeks, leaving paint splatter splotches on the sheet. Rick wonders how many times this happened in the months he was away, the thought tugs at his heart in the worst of ways.

Rick isn't sure what to do, but he knows he has to do something, so he walks closer, tiptoeing silently so he doesn't startle her. Gently, he lowers himself to the mattress and Kate feels it shift under his weight. She presses her face against the pillow, turning away from him. He sits beside her for some time, careful not to touch her or say anything, but eventually her cries become unbearable. He can't determine if it's the right thing or the wrong thing, regardless, he slides closer and places a hand on her trembling shoulder. "Kate," he whispers. She's still for a moment, hesitating before turning around. Her face is still covered by her hair and she conceals it into a pillow but at least she's facing him, somewhat. Slowly she reaches a hand out to him. He slips his fingers between hers and gives a reassuring squeeze. Kate returns it weakly.

"Can I hug you?" he asks. She offers the briefest tilt of a nod and opens her eyes as she brushes the hair out of her face. She sniffles and presses the back of her hand against her cheek, pushing away tears. She keeps her head down, avoiding his gaze as she sits up. Rick wraps his arms around her quivering frame and pulls her against him. Her heart lurches beneath her shirt and she buries her face into the crook of his neck. Tears wet his shoulder while he murmurs soft, soothing phrases into her ear. She's crying so hard she's hiccupping and her gulps for breath are nothing short of screams for help. The only thing Rick can do is be there, because sometimes words aren't enough. He's not sure how much time passes until her devastating flood of sobs fades into the slow tears of a trickling stream. Her gut twists in her chest as she clutches the fabric of his shirt, breathing in his scent, memorizing the feel of his skin.

"What's wrong?" he asks, although he already knows the answer. He needs to hear her say it, needs to know for sure before he can try to heal the agony he inadvertently created.

She fills her lungs with air in a swirling crescendo before the words fall from her lips. "God, Rick, I missed you so much," her voice hitches in her throat, "I was so scared, I started wondering if I was ever going to see you again and even though you're back, I'm still afraid I've lost you. Sometimes it just feels like I'm drowning and I don't know what to do."

It's the first time she's really talked to him since he was found. Her confession twists something inside of him. He kisses her forehead. He's at a loss for words and he loathes the feeling. He racks his brain, struggling for something to say that will alleviate her pain. "I know things haven't been the same since I disappeared but I need you to know that I would never have left on purpose. I'm not sure what happened, but I love you, and I never meant for any of that to happen."

She catches his eye and nods, so he continues, "I can't pretend to know what you're going through but I'm here now and you can always talk to me, whatever you need, I'll do it, whatever it takes to get you out of that water. I'm not going to let you drown, Kate."

"I know," she says softly, aware that his words are true and fully confident that someday she'll remember how to float.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** This one shot is set near the end of season 4, Castle and Beckett are almost together, but not quite. Thank you so much for the reviews, follows, and favorites, it means a lot! I hope you enjoy this chapter and I'd love to hear your thoughts.

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><p>Beckett sighs softly, dropping her head in her hands and sinking against her desk. Her shoulders slump and her eyebrows furrow while she fights off a headache, frustrated that the case has reached yet another standstill. Her eyes slip closed as she promises herself that it's only for a minute. She runs through the case details, but nothing stands out as she contemplates the crime. The facts jumble together, seeming insignificant and disjointed. She opens her eyes, willing herself to stay awake as she studies the information. Her eyelids grow heavy and the prospect of sleeping, despite the hard surface, is overwhelmingly appealing, but she's Detective Beckett, she's a professional. She vows not to fall asleep, until she does.<p>

A muted buzzing rouses Beckett from her slumber. Slowly, her head raises from her arms as she muses at what point she fell against the stack of case files. The incessant vibrations of her phone draw the detective from thought. Her finger reach for the device as it moves against the desk. Frankly, she's more concerned with stopping the sound than with who might be on the other end, details aren't important right now. Finally her hand finds the offending object, buried beneath files.

"Beckett," she answers blearily, as she straightens in her seat, attempting in vain to shake off the drag of sleep.

"Hey, Beckett. It's Castle. I just landed. How are you doing?" he asks, the bustle of an airport carries through the phone as stifled background noise.

"I'm fine, still working on the case. Did you and Alexis have a nice trip?"

"Yeah, we did. I missed our crime solving a little bit, though."

A smirk works its way across her lips. "Hmm, I don't know, Castle. Everything ran a lot smoother here at the precinct," she teases and Castle has no trouble picturing the grin she wears.

"I bet it was boring."

Beckett sighs dramatically. "I suppose. Sorry I didn't get to call. This case is high profile. Gates is putting a lot of pressure on us to have it solved within the next few days," she finishes with an unsuccessfully stifled yawn.

"Beckett, you did go home, right?"

"Of course—" Then she sighs, feeling guilty for lying to him. "Okay, so I didn't go home, but we only got the case yesterday morning and I did sleep here for a little while."

Rick exhales then laughed softly. "You probably didn't mean to."

She grimaces at the truth of that statement. "It's not a big deal."

"Do you have any leads?"

She leans against the back of her chair. "No, nothing's working out. I sent Ryan and Espo home for the night."

"How about you? Are you going home soon?"

"Yeah, I'm just going to review the case a few more times and then I'll head home."

"All right, but really, Beckett, don't stay too late."

"I won't."

"Good. I'll see you tomorrow, Beckett."

"See ya, Castle," she says before hanging up and putting her phone down.

She rubs her eyes and refocuses on the open file. She's just finished reexamining the crime scene photos when the sound of footsteps causes her to turn.

"Castle," she says, "What are you doing here?"

He shrugs, his shoulders lifting adorably. Beckett wonders what's gotten into her. "I had a feeling you'd still be working. I thought you might want some coffee."

The corners of Beckett's lips uplift as she takes the cup from his hand. "Thanks," she says.

"Show me the murder board?" he asks.

"Of course," Beckett says, she sits up and pushes her chair away from the desk, standing and leading Castle the short distance to the board. She begins relaying the facts and describing the timeline they had created. As she speaks, Castle studies her face, the way her lips move, the slight swish of her curls, messy from impromptu sleep. He squints at a small white square with torn edges. Without thinking, he reaches out and smooths the back of her hair. It's softer than he imagined, laying delicately beneath his fingertips. His touch lingers for a moment too long and he pulls back, shoving his hands in his pocket. "Sorry," he mumbles, "there was a piece of paper in your hair and you had some bed head, or um desk head, going on," he grins shyly, "I just-"

"Castle," she cuts him off, placing a hand softly on his shoulder. Something thrilling leaps through his veins, something electric and alive. Beckett continues, "It's fine, really. Let's just get back to the case."

And just like that, her hand is gone and the moment flees. Castle nods, "Right." He focuses on studying the timeline. Beckett steals a glance at him, taking in his bright eyes and slightly ruffled hair. His gaze shifts, catching hers. Pink, rosy blush colors Beckett's cheeks. A shy smile creeps across her lips and reflects onto Castle's.

She looks away with a sigh. "We're not getting anywhere." Beckett runs a hand through her hair, and then adds in a rush, "On this case I mean."

Castle nudges her shoulder. "Hey you'll get it. You always do. Do you want to come over to the loft? We can order take out and look at the evidence there. Get you away from the precinct for a bit."

Beckett glances at her watch. "I don't know, Castle. It's kind of late. I think I'm just going to head home."

Castle tries to hide the disappointment tugging at his features. "All right, I'll see you tomorrow, Beckett."

"Night, Castle, and thanks for the offer." She smiles cordially at him, but there's something else there too—sadness and longing.

"Goodnight," he says before disappearing into the elevator.

As soon as he's gone, she trudges back to her desk, slumping in her seat, questioning why she constantly pushes him away when all she really wants is to spend more time together. Her heart is racing and she's cursing herself for declining his invitation when she hears familiar footsteps.

She spins in her chair, heart leaping in her chest, breath catching in her throat.

Castle appears in front of her. "Sure you don't want to come?"

The smile that blooms across her face is worth every ounce of courage he had to muster to turn around and come back up. Their eye contact holds longer than necessary as Beckett bites the corner of her bottom lip. "You know what, Castle? I think I will."

Suddenly, both of their days just grew considerably better.


End file.
